Your father is sick.
This isn’t news. My father’s been sick for twenty years. Side effects from too much daily whiskey and whatever his drug ofchoice is.
ME
Not my problem.
I set my phone down on the picnic table I’m sitting at, pushing Pete from my mind. He was toldneverto contact me, but a condition of helping me get out of my father’s world was giving him a point of contact.
Nash tosses his horseshoe after all the buildup of planning his shot and lands it perfectly as he lets out a little “fuck yeah.”
He’s in his element: shorts, flip-flops, his cap facing backward. His brow is furrowed, deep in concentration, playing against Haden at Benny’s Backyard BBQ. “Mama Tried” by Merle Haggard plays over the sound system and the air is both festive and casual. We’ve been here a few times; it’s a cool place by the lake, on the beach, with a food truck– style take-out restaurant that serves ribs, wings, and burgers in white paper boxes with their logo stamped on top. It’s no-frills, but out behind the truck there’s a large grassy area with string lights hung up between wooden posts. Multiple picnic tables form a U around a gaming area with cornhole and horseshoe toss. Where the grass ends the sand begins, and there are nets set up right on the beach beyond for volleyball. It’s the perfect place to ride my Harley to and hang out for an afternoon with a beer and some good grub.
“You overstepped the line!” Haden barks out as Nash lands yet another perfect shot.
“Nah, take the loss.” Nash chuckles, flexing his arm. Haden takes a sip of his beer and shakes his head.
“I’ll only let you get away with it because you’re a married man now.” Haden points his beer at Nash and grins. “That tossing hand’s getting a little more of a workout these days, I’m guessing.”
“Whatever gets you through the day, bud,” Nash responds. “But for the record, pregnant women are wild.”
“Fuuuck,just no,” Wade bites out, taking a sip of his beer.
“Sorry.” Nash shrugs. “At some point you gotta get over it.”
“Nope,” Cole warns from beside me.
My phone buzzes on the table and I expect to see another message from my uncle. I’m wrong.
LIVI GIRL
Shane says my demo is almost done! Thank you for recommending him.
Having her contact as “Oblivia” didn’t seem right anymore after the night we had. The night that absolutely fucked with my head.
ME
Heard that. Great news, Liv.
I don’t mean to be cold with her. It’s been almost four weeks since we left the bathroom stall at the wedding after the hottest sex I’ve had in … fuck, as long as I can remember. Maybe ever. We both stayed and celebrated through the night with our friends, and every time I thought about how I was dripping down her thighs, it turned me into a man crazed.
She left with Jo, taking a ride home to the ranch like nothing had happened, and we’ve barely spoken since. It was exactly what we agreed to: one night, no strings. But I can’t get her off my mind. There’s just something about the goodness in her. That light with a desire for the dark that brings out this raw need in me—to protect her, to be with her, toownher the way she’s owned my every thought for weeks.
“You know, I’ve known you for two years—
” Nash says now, taking a seat across from me.
“Double or nothin’,” Haden interjects, sitting down beside him and picking up a wing from his plate. “But first I gotta eat.”
Nash nods to him. “Let me know when you’re ready for another beating.”
“Bite me,” Haden mumbles jokingly around his wing.
“Where was I?” Nash looks at me. “Right, two years I’ve known you.” He picks up a wing and points at my phone with it. “And never have I seen you look worried or stressed for more than one second. What gives?”
I shrug as I set down my phone and continue eating my rack of ribs. “No idea what you mean.”
“Working all that OT got you worn out?”
